


What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Girls in Love, Love Confessions, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 17:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: “I hate asking people out,” Éponine complained.“So don't,” Musichetta said. “Just ask if she's got anyone to kiss on New Year's. Or drop hints that you don't.”“And get a pity kiss? No thanks,” Éponine grumbled.





	What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

**Author's Note:**

> ((My proof-reading is terrible always. Comment any major errors.))  
> I never write girls in love and I'm a bisexual girl so this is a serious issue. Girls in love are very important! Éponine deserves love! Enjoy!  
> Title and idea fully from [this dodie and Emma Blackery video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AprYRsrgYE)  
> 

Musichetta frowned at her, trying to get across how disappointed she was in her pessimism.

“Look, there's no way she doesn't already have someone to kiss,” Éponine said, folding her arms across her chest and trying to look firm. Despite her leather jacket, tattoos, peircings, and scar running through her eyebrow, it wasn't very successful. Musichetta was the only person Éponine had ever met who had never once been intimidated by Éponine. Sometimes she loved her for it, other times...

“You're being a baby,” Musichetta informed her, plainly. “A toddler at most.”

Éponine huffed and refocused her attention on painting her nails electric blue.

“You know who you're scared of?” Musichetta asked. “A flower. A fairy princess. A fucking angel. And you're scared of her. She wears pink because it's her favourite colour. She cried when Bossuet stepped on an _ant_. Who has ever killed an ant by stepping on it? The thing was fine and she still cried.”

“I get it, I get it, she's precious as fuck,” Éponine said, rolling her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed slightly.

“Look at yourself, woman,” Musichetta said. “Get it together.”

Éponine screwed the brush back into the pot of nail varnish and blew on her nails, not looking at Musichetta in the slightest.

“How are you scared of _Cosette_?” Musichetta asked, exasperated.

“I'm not!” Éponine exploded, finally giving up and turning towards her friend. “I'm not scared _of_ Cosette, I'm... I'm fucking in love with her, alright? I'm in love with her, and if I ask her out and she says _no_ , then I'll fucking _die_.” She punctuated her speech by throwing herself dramatically backwards, flopping down into the sofa cushions, but carefully so as not to smudge her nails.

Musichetta patted her head, rather heavy-handidly. It wasn't particularly comforting, but then, knowing Musichetta, it wasn't meant to be. “Look, just ask her what she's doing for New Year's.”

Groaning loudly, Éponine pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “What if she has plans?”

“Then she has plans and that's fine. We'll come up with another idea,” Musichetta promised, voice full of sincerity. “But if she _doesn't_ have plans, and she comes to the party – which, let's be honest, is probably what will happen since _all of her friends_ are coming to the party – then you can get your kiss!”

Éponine dropped her hands. “Just because she comes doesn't mean she wants to kiss me,” she reasoned.

“Well, then, you'll have to ask if she wants to kiss you,” Musichetta said, in a tone of voice that made it clear she thought Éponine was being pathetic.

“I hate asking people out,” Éponine complained.

“So don't,” Musichetta said. “Just ask if she's got anyone to kiss on New Year's. Or drop hints that you _don't._ ”

“And get a pity kiss? No thanks,” Éponine grumbled. “Let me do your nails.”

“Gold, please,” Musichetta said, holding out her hands obediently. “And it wouldn't be a pity kiss, Cosette doesn't pity people, especially not her friends.”

“So I get a platonic kiss, how is that any better?” Éponine asked as she started to apply the nail varnish.

“But maybe it wouldn't be a platonic kiss!” Musichetta said, all positivity and confidence, the polar opposite of Éponine.

“Look, I get it, you're in a loving relationship and it all worked out brilliantly for you,” Éponine said, “and that's great, Chetta, but this is different. Joly and Bossuet blatently adored you from the minute you met; Cosette is my friend. She likes me in a best friends kind of way. I'm not going to ruin that.”

“Girl, you're killing me,” Musichetta told her. “You're not going to ruin anything.”

“You don't know that,” Éponine said. “Ah, shit,” she then said, putting the brush back in the pot and grabbing a bit of tissue to wipe the varnish off Musichetta's skin.

“Don't worry about it,” Musichetta said. “I'll pick it off later.”

Éponine huffed in amusement. Then her face dropped and she looked genuinely sad for the first time all night. Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her face into her hands. “I love her,” she said. “I really, really love her.”

“I know,” Musichetta said, softly. “I know, lovely. I'm sorry.”

“She's so perfect,” Éponine said. “Like, she's actually the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.”

“She's very pretty,” Musichetta agreed.

“And kind, too,” Éponine said. “She's always doing things for other people, and she never expects anything in return, and it's from a place of genuine caring, even for people she doesn't know, it's incredible.”

“She's very kind,” Musichetta agreed.

“I know!” Éponine said, enthusiastically. “She cares _so much_ , she's always getting involved in protests and fundraisers, and she did that march to raise awareness about bees. Who cares about bees? I mean, I care about bees, but who _marches_ for _bees_?”

“You marched for bees,” Musichetta reminded her.

“Yeah, but only because Cosette invited me, like, I care about bees, but I only went because Cosette got so passionate about it,” Éponine argued. “And she's so inclusive in everything. She's always making sure everyone's involved. Like, her feminism isn't exclusionary at all, or if we're playing cards and someone's struggling she's always making people join teams to help that person out, and she always notices if somewhere isn't accesible for physically disabled people, and when one of the guys gets too loud talking over us she calls them out, or if someone-”

“Breathe,” Musichetta interrupted.

Éponine sucked in a large breath and barrelled on, “-if someone starts using too fancy language about social issues, even though she knows it all and it's so easy to forget that not everyone knows the words _misogynoir_ or... fucking, I don't know, _kyriarchy_ or whatever, she steps in and starts using basic language so everyone knows what's going on-”

“Éponine,” Musichetta interrupted, gently. “I _know._ ”

“I'm sorry, I just-” Éponine broke off and sighed. “She's such a good person, and I'm...”

“Incredible,” Musichetta said firmly, before she could start spouting self-depricating lies. “Inspiring. Dedicated. Determined. Intelligent-”

“Shut up,” Éponine mumbled, flushing hot.

“It's true. So what you never went to college, or put yourself first sometimes?” Musichetta asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to meet her gaze. “Éponine, you have worked two jobs since you were seventeen to give yourself and your siblings the lives your arsehole parents never gave you. You work two jobs and raise _four kids_. Four, Éponine! And you're not even a mum! You do it all by yourself, even if Gav and Zelma are old enough to help out now, you still do that by yourself, and you always have done, and when you finally get some time to yourself you're part of a social activism group. You're _awesome_ , Éponine.”

Éponine sniffed and looked away, trying to hide the way she was tearing up. “You're just saying that,” she said.

Musichetta kissed her temple. “I'm not. You're the most incredible woman I've ever met, and I know Cosette, who, as you've just pointed out, is pretty fucking awesome herself.”

“You're great, too,” Éponine mumbled.

Musichetta laughed and kissed her again. “I know.” When Éponine's eyes flickered up to look at her, she said, “You should ask her.”

“I know,” Éponine said, and fought a smile.

“You'll only regret it if you never give it a chance. You're braver than that,” Musichetta said.

“I know,” Éponine said, and met Musichetta's eyes. They both grinned, Éponine a little sheepishly.

“Are you gonna go over there, then?” Musichetta asked.

Éponine shrugged. “When my nails dry?” she offered.

“Alright,” Musichetta allowed. “Finish mine while you're waiting.”

Éponine grinned and picked the brush back up.

  


All her confidence wilted in the face of Cosette's door. She clenched and unclenched her fists three times before she managed to knock, and then immediately went into fight or flight and sprinted down the corridor away from Cosette's flat, like a ten year old boy playing knock-a-door-run.

From around the corner, she watched Cosette open the door and look around, confused and pretty, before realising how childish she was being and stepping out.

“Cosette,” she called out, before the girl could go back into her flat.

“Éponine!” Cosette greeted, smiling. “Did you see anyone run past you? I think a kid just played a prank.”

“Yeah,” Éponine lied, immediately, as she reached Cosette's doorway. “She looked very cheeky.”

Cosette laughed, making Éponine's heart go into cardiac arrest. “Must have been Madame Simplice's girl.”

“Could be,” Éponine said, smiling.

“Coming in?” Cosette asked, stepping back to let her in.

“Sure,” Éponine said, walking into the flat. She looked around like she'd never been there before to give herself a few seconds before looking at Cosette. “Hi,” she said, when she plucked up her courage.

“Hi,” Cosette echoed, laughing softly.

“I just-” Éponine said, breaking off to take a deep breath. “What are you doing New Year's Eve?”

“New Year's?” Cosette asked, shutting the flat door, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, I was coming to your party, if that's alright.”

“You are?” Éponine asked, breath catching in her throat.

“Well, yeah,” Cosette said, going over to the sofa. Éponine followed her and sat down next to her. “Isn't everyone?”

“Um, yeah,” Éponine said.

Cosette blinked, and then giggled. “You came all the way over here to ask if I'm coming to your party that _everyone_ is going to?”

“Uh,” Éponine said. “Yes?”

Cosette laughed, but not cruelly, and Éponine, blushing, laughed, too. “Well, thank you for checking,” Cosette said. “I'm really looking forward to it,” she admitted.

“Me, too,” Éponine said.

Cosette tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled at Éponine, waiting patiently, clearly aware that Éponine had more to say.

Éponine sighed and gave in. “Okay, obviously I didn't come over here to ask if you were coming. I mean, I did. I wanted to be sure you were coming. But... What I really wanted to ask, Cosette...”

Cosette reached out and gently touched Éponine's knee. Éponine noticed how short Cosette's nails were and blushed involuntarily, because even though she knew Cosette kept her nails short to keep from biting them, her mind couldn't help but jump to the implications.

“Are you planning on kissing anyone on New Year's?” she blurted out in a rush.

Cosette squeezed her knee, and Éponine looked up, trying to work out whether it was involuntary or not. “Well, I'm not dating anyone, currently,” Cosette said, slowly. She looked... curious, but not nervous or angry, or anything negative at all. Her head was inclined towards Éponine's and her hair had escaped from behind her ear.

Éponine covered Cosette's hand with her own, hoping Cosette couldn't tell she was shaking a little. “But, is there anyone you...” She shook her head and started again. “Cosette, will you... would you maybe consider... kissing me?” She bit her lip, but didn't shy away this time, facing Cosette head on, desperately waiting for an answer.

Cosette blinked. “Really?” she asked, voice hushed.

“Um, yes. Please,” Éponine said.

Cosette tucked her hair back again with her free hand. An embarrassed smile was working its way onto her face. “Um, okay,” she said. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Éponine asked, shocked.

“Yes,” Cosette echoed.

“You'd... You'll kiss me on New Year's?” Éponine asked. “I don't mean this in a friendly way,” she said, hurriedly. “I'm not thinking two friends who don't have anyone else to kiss kissing each other like Grantaire and Bahorel do every year, although I guess not this year since Bahorel and Feuilly are fucking, who do you think Grantaire will kiss? Um. That's not the point, the point is-”

Cosette was smiling at her, waiting kindly for her to run out of steam, and Éponine broke off, embarrassed.

She cleared her throat. “I mean... I want this to be romantic. I want to kiss you, romantically. Because I like you. In a lesbian way. Um.”

Cosette laughed, softly. “I like you too. In a lesbian way. Or bisexual way, I guess. But you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Éponine said, and ducked her head to hide her pleased smile. She broke out into a grin. Cosette liked her. She could have screamed, she was so happy. “I'm gonna go,” she said, squeezing Cosette's hand. “I'm gonna... I'll see you at the party?”

“You don't have to go,” Cosette said, twisting her hand so they were actually holding hands. “You could stay? We could... get a head start on that kissing?”

Éponine's heart almost thudded right out of her chest. “I-” she said, wide-eyed. “This is embarrasing, but could we...”

“Wait til New Year's?” Cosette asked, smiling, beautiful and kind.

“Yeah,” Éponine said. “I thought it might be nice? Special? Because you deserve special. You deserve the most romantic first kiss anyone could give you.”

“We can wait,” Cosette said, “but I would be happy with any first kiss with you.”

Éponine breathed in sharply, happiness utterly overwhelming her. “That's... nice to hear,” she said. “But can we wait?”

“Of course,” Cosette said. “You deserve the special first kiss that you want.”

Éponine was blushing so much. “Thank you. I know it's cheesy, and pointless, but I- I don't get moments like that. And I want it.”

“I know,” Cosette said. “We can wait. Can I kiss you on the cheek?”

Éponine held her breath and nodded. She watched Cosette with wide eyes as Cosette leant in, and her eyelids fluttered shut as Cosette's lips met her skin, a soft, gentle kiss.

When Cosette pulled back, Éponine stood up, fast. “I'll see you at the party, then?” she asked, flustered.

Cosette beamed at her, and stood up, at a more normal pace, making Éponine feel a little ridiculous. “I'll see you at the party,” she said. Her voice was warm and kind, and her gaze soothed Éponine's racing heart.

As soon as Éponine was away from the flat, down the stairs and out onto the road, she punched the air and did a little dance. A few teenagers laughed at her and mimicked her, but she also caught the eye of a woman her age waiting at the busstop, and the woman gave her a warm, knowing smile. Éponine grinned at the world and set off home, pulling out her phone to call Musichetta and celebrate.

  


The party was in full swing and Cosette still hadn't arrived. Éponine was doing her best to pretend that everything was fine, but Musichetta kept catching her eye and glancing at the door, throwing her a sympathetic smile.

It was fine.

More than one of her friends had asked if she was alright, but she was fine. It was fine. Everything was fine.

She didn't text Cosette. She knew she should, knew that Cosette wouldn't just stand her up, knew that there must be a _reason_ for Cosette to not be there, but she was scared. She drained the last of her glass of wine, and went to find the bottle to top it up.

Everyone was having a great time, drinking and talking loudly over the music that Joly kept turning down but everyone else kept turning up. Gavroche was the key instigator in making the music as loud and as terrible as possible, but he was getting support from all of Éponine's friends, so she couldn't get mad at him.

But Cosette wasn't there.

It was only ten. It was fine. Even though everyone else had been here for four hours by now, and the party officially started three hours ago, and Cosette promised to kiss her at midnight, and Cosette wasn't there, it was fine. She was fine.

Musichetta grabbed her arm and dragged her into the kitchen.

“I texted and she hasn't replied, has she texted you?” Musichetta demanded.

Éponine shook her head. “I don't think she's coming.”

Musichetta's expression darkened. “She wouldn't do that to you. She's coming.”

“It's ten,” Éponine pointed out.

“So there's two more hours,” Musichetta said, firmly. “She'll be here.”

Éponine tried to smile, but didn't quite manage it, and instead chose to push past Musichetta and all her other friends in the living room and go hide out on the fire escape. Just for a few minutes.

  


It was fucking freezing outside, and after braving it for a couple of minutes, she shoved her hands under her armpits to avoid losing her fingers to frostbite. She'd have to go back in soon, and smile and laugh and join in.

The window behind her scraped open, and she turned in time to watch Cosette attempting to climb out the window in a skirt way too short and heels way too high to respectfully manage it.

“Oh, my God, stop, stop, I'll come inside, what are you doing?” Éponine said, startled, hands coming up to push Cosette's head back inside, trying not to think about what she must look like from behind in that short skirt.

Cosette backed up into the bedroom behind her, Gavroche and the twins' bedroom. The twins were fast asleep in their bed, and Éponine ushered her out of the room and into the corridor before she put her hands on her hips and glared at Cosette.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, angrily.

“I'm sorry!” Cosette cried, and she looked it, too. “I- I panicked. I was so calm when you were over at my flat, and then you gave me two whole days to think about it, and I got scared, because I like you so much!”

Éponine let out a disbelieving breath of air. “You got scared about me liking you because you ike me? That doesn't make any sense, Cosette.”

“I know,” Cosette said, her shoulders dropping and her lower lip jutting out. “I'm sorry. Musichetta slapped me when I arrived.”

Éponine squinted at Cosette's face. “Really?” she asked.

“Well, she tapped me on the face. But I've never been slapped before! I'm counting it,” she said, firmly, jutting out her chin.

Éponine burst out laughing. “You still want to kiss me at midnight?” she asked.

“Do _you_?” Cosette asked, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Of course,” Éponine said, and pulled Cosette into a hug, holding her as tight as she could.

“I'm sorry I'm so late,” Cosette mumbled into her shoulder.

“It's alright. I forgive you,” Éponine said into Cosette's hair.

“Can we go join the party?” Cosette asked, pulling back and taking hold of Éponine's hands. She was so pretty, Éponine would have done anything for her in that moment. Something in Cosette's eyes told Éponine that she knew exactly what Éponine would do for her.

  


There was a bit of teasing from the group when Éponine and Cosette slinked into the room, holding hands and grinning so widely their faces hurt, and when the countdown started two hours later, more than one of their friends winked at them devilishly.

Éponine didn't care. She took Cosette's face in her hands and gazed into her eyes, pressing their foreheads together, and whispering the countdown in the middle of all their friends yelling hysterically.

They brought in the New Year with the sweetest kiss Éponine had ever had. It was perfect.

“Happy New Year,” Cosette whispered.

Éponine kissed her again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! Have a Happy New Year!  
> I'm on twitter @wonderfeuilly and instagram, letterboxd, and goodreads all under @caitlynsofia and if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)  
> read my 2016 new year's fic, maybe january light will consume my heart, [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5597734)  
> and my 2017 new year's fic, not in numerical order, [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10070480)  
> (both enjolras/grantaire, not éponine/cosette, sorry)


End file.
